Until Death Do Us Part
by Emedy Linaira
Summary: Jace and Clary have finally settled down into a content life, married and with a little girl. But when something terrible happens, how will Jace deal with the aftermath? First attempt, please R&R! JxC, lemon 2nd chapter. Rated T to be safe.


**First Mortal Instruments fanfic, and my first in a SUPER long time. Ok, so basically this chapter is a bunch of little drabbles. It'll lead up to the main thing next chapter. This also mentions Clary's grandmother, or Jocelyn's mother. I know they never actually say her name in the books, so I made it up for use in my story. Oh, and before I forget, Clary's 22 and Jace is 23 at the beginning. Hope you like it, first attempt. Constructive criticism is welcome.**

**6-2-10: added a page break where needed, sorry for any previous confusion.  
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**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything but the plot. Cassandra Clare does.

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Clary screamed again. Jace wished there was a rune that dealt with pain. There probably was, but Clary was unavailable at the moment. All he could do was squeeze her sweaty hand and encourage her. They were at a mundane hospital, so the baby would officially exist, unlike most Shadowhunters born in Idris.

"You're almost there," he said. "Only a few more minutes! Why couldn't she get a caesarian?" He added the last part to the doctor.

"It wasn't needed," she responded, and Jace did his best to suppress a couple rude remarks that came to mind.

"Why?" Clary shrieked at him. "You just _had_ to get me knocked up, right?"

Jace looked pleadingly at the doctor, as if hoping for advice. She just gave him a pitiful smile. He contented himself to holding Clary's hand and attempting to ignore her, but it was kind of hard when her sharp nails drew blood from his palm where they dug in.

After a few more hours of struggling, finally, _finally_ the baby was born—it was a girl. She had her piercing green eyes that stared up at her mother and sprouts of golden hair the exact shade of her father's tresses.

"Marissa Amy Lightwood," whispered Clary. "You like that, baby?" Clary smiled at the newborn, stroking little Marissa's cheek. And to think that a few minutes ago she was threatening to do something very unsightly to the little baby's father.

Jace smiled—this just might be the happiest day of his life. They named her Marissa for her great-grandmother, Jocelyn's mother, and Amy in honor of Amatis. The couple had decided this in advance, and Jace did his homework—Amy was actually a variation of the French word _aimée_, or _beloved_. The girl was going to be loved, no doubt about that. But he didn't want anything other than that for his daughter.

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"I never thought the great Jace Lightwood would ever do something as mundane as changing a diaper!" exclaimed Clary, laughing.

Jace grimaced. "This is for you, you know. I'd do anything for you. Even if it means cleaning up baby poo."

"Aw, poor Jace. I love you," Clary said, kissing his cheek. "But you still have to do it."

Jace scowled.

Clary peeled open her eyelids. Not again. She threw the blanket off herself, meaning to get up and calm Marissa down, but Jace laid a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down into the bed.

"Let me," he said. Clary gave him a grateful smile. She hadn't slept for more than a couple hours at night for a week.

A few minutes later, the crying stopped, and Jace lay back down beside her. Clary put an arm around his neck and kissed him. "You're a lifesaver, Jace."

A smile crept to his lips, pushing a red curl from her forehead. "Get back to sleep. Isabelle said that she wanted to have lunch with you."

Clary groaned. "Which, unfortunately, also means shopping. I hate shopping with Izzy."

"Me, too," agreed Jace. "But you could use some time of your own. I'll take care of the baby."

"Fine," Clary sighed, and laid her head back on the pillow, and Jace did the same, putting an arm around her shoulders. "I love you, Jace."

"Love you, too."

* * *

"I'm worried, Jace," said Clary.

"Don't be, it's Izzy. She's great with kids. I hear she makes a _killer_ mac and cheese," replied Jace, grinning.

Clary smacked his arm in response.

"Okay, okay. I'll call Magnus and Alec," said Jace, pulling his phone from his pocket.

"I'd trust them more not to feed Marissa something fatal," said Clary, studying her reflection in the mirror. "We _finally_ have a day off. Do something alone, for once without a freaking baby crying in the background."

Jace chuckled. "Come on, you look beautiful. We have reservations." He grasped her hand and drew her out the door.

Clary let Jace pull her along. She was excited, anyway, to finally get away sometime.

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"We can't let her know!" said Clary in a low voice. Marissa had finally gotten to sleep, and they didn't want to wake her up.

"What, so she'd end up like you did, ignorant that there was this whole other world out there, that only she could see? She'd think that she was crazy!" Jace argued—quietly—back.

"No! Just…until she's ready. It's not like we're going to just tell her that we kill demons for a living!"

It was hard to argue with that logic. Jace sighed. "Fine. But she's gonna have to find out sometime."

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"Hi, sweetie! How was daycare?" said Clary to Marissa, marking off the sign-out sheet.

"Uh, Clary?" said Jace, who had bent down so he was at eye level to Marissa.

"Hmm?" said Clary. "What's wrong, baby?" And then she got a good look at her child. "Oh, no. I knew we couldn't keep it from her much longer."

The little girl whimpered, her eyes wide with fear. "I don't know what came to her, we fed her, gave her toys, we did everything!" explained the woman that worked at the daycare center.

"It's fine, don't worry. We won't report you," assured Clary, when she saw the panicked look on the woman's face.

Jace stroked his daughter's hair. "Marissa? Listen to me. It's okay, Mommy and Daddy are here. Everything's fine. We're going to go back home. Okay?" She nodded putting her arms around her father's neck and burying her face against his shoulder. He sighed, lifting her up and started towards their car.

The ride back to their apartment was painfully silent, only broken by Marissa's occasional sob. Jace was all tensed up, and a muscle pulsed in his jaw—and Clary knew what that meant. She put her hand on top of his, trying to calm him down. And in the midst of all that, Clary's phone rang. At that moment, she hated herself for using "California Gurls," by Katy Perry, as her ringtone. The poppy tune was uncharacteristic compared to the mood in the car.

"Hello?" Clary spoke into her iPhone.

"Hey, Clary!" said a way too cheerful voice. "It's Isabelle. Wanna go shopping later? I hear there's a big sale at Aéropostale today—20 percent off all graphic tees!"

"Not now, Izzy," said Clary between her teeth. "I have to get home. No shopping."

"Aw, Clary! Maybe we can get you some new skinny jeans, too," pleaded Isabelle. "Don't your favorite ones have holes in them?"

"Isabelle, I—I have a problem. I'm sorry, I'll go with you tomorrow—" Clary's voice broke, and she hung up.

"Marissa," said Clary. There were back home now. "Marissa, look at me. Everything's going to be okay. You just have to tell me what you saw out there."

"I—I saw this monster, and it had big spikes all over!" stuttered the girl. "It stared right at me with gold eyes and whipped its tail around and—and it was like it was trying to hit me!" Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, but she was a strong girl—she had to have inherited _something_ from her parents.

Jace took her up and put her on his lap, stroking the hair that matched his own so much. "Baby, it's fine."

"No, it's not! You think I'm crazy!" shrieked Marissa. Smart girl.

"No, no. You see, Mommy and Daddy know all about these monsters. We've seen a million of them," explained Clary, choosing her words carefully.

"You have?" Marissa looked hopeful.

"Yes. Let me show you something, Mary." Jace reached inside his leather jacket and pulled out a glowing dagger. "This is a seraph blade. It's made especially for killing those monsters—the demons." He let her run a finger along the blade.

"Marissa, you know all your aunties and uncles? We're Shadowhunters. We kill these demons for a living." Clary never thought her daughter would take it this quietly.

"But why?"

"Because the demons are evil, and if we don't kill them, they will destroy the world."

And that day, Marissa's father gave her a silver dagger—he taught her how to throw it and fight with it. Marissa was six years old, just a year older than when Jace himself had first learned to kill.

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"Ooohh, honey, you're getting heavy!" exclaimed Jace, giving a seven year old Marissa a piggy back ride. The family laughed together.

It was a peaceful afternoon in Central Park, when Jace's phone rang. "Get that for me, will you, Clary?" And when Clary had successfully pulled out Jace's phone from his back pocket, they ran off, their two golden heads bobbing up and down. Clary never thought that they would end up like this.

The still ringing phone brought her out of her trance. "Hello?"

"Hello, Clary," said a voice. "It's Magnus. Alec asked me to tell you that there's been a tip—just some Rultev demons, he said. Should be nothing. He wants to know if you wanted to take them."

"Hmm. Rultev demons, you say?" considered Clary. "We'll do it. Jace has been complaining that he could never properly train Marissa without some real demons for her to fight. He's been letting her hit him."

"Ah, that must be a great blow on his inflated ego."

Clary laughed. "Tell me about it. We'll see you later—maybe dinner at Taki's?"

"I'll text you if the gang's in the mood for some coconut pancakes." She could just see his glittery wink.

"Kay, bye."

"See you." And with that, she hung up.

"Rultev demons, huh?" Jace said later on, when Clary had informed him about the tip. "Let's do it!"

But his excitement was for nothing. Little did he know that something would happen—something that would change life as he knew it.

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**Bwahahahahaha! My first chapter, and I end it in a cliffie. I'm so mean. XD Please review, just click that little link down there, I'll appreciate it. Phew! That took a long time. Number one, check. Number two, in progress.**


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